


A Caffeinated Courting

by straylize



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pure Unadulterated Fluff, Wartime Romance, actual wingman dorothea arnault, and her accomplice actual wingman edelgard von hresvelg, in this house we are self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 16:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21018818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straylize/pseuds/straylize
Summary: Courtship during wartime is never easy—especially when two trying to court one another have not always had an amiable relationship. Time, growth, maturity—Ferdinand and Hubert both can see things in each other that didn't exist in the many years prior. Now, they need to work around their own feelings and obstacles just to finally understand one another as they were meant to.





	A Caffeinated Courting

A surface, steeped in darkness. Bitter and unapproachable. A swirl of rising steam meant to invoke distance. Beneath that, though, something rich. Bountiful in complexities that no one person would be able to unravel in one try. A warmth that was palpable; while threatening, it never truly burned. Compelling, intriguing, a little alarming. An energy that made his hands quake every time, without fail.

The similarities were uncanny, Ferdinand couldn’t help but to think as his gaze shifted from the steam rising from his own cup of tea to the figure sitting a few tables away in the dining all. Hubert and coffee—they certainly complemented each other well enough. As far as he could see, they were barely distinguishable. At one time, that would have been reason enough for him to stay far enough away. A shared disdain, a constant bickering, hardly seeing eye-to-eye on anything; Hubert had been a sour name on his tongue for so many years, much like coffee did whenever he’d had a sip.

“Isn’t it rude for a noble to stare with such intensity,  _ Ferdie _ ?” The soft, but somehow still slightly judgmental sound of Dorothea’s voice cut through his thoughts like a dagger, pulling Ferdinand from the distant pining they may have been leaning into. His thoughts had carried him so far from where he began that he’d nearly forgotten that she’d been sitting next to him that entire time.

“Do-Dorothea! My… apologies. You are correct; it was quite unbecoming of me to let my gaze wander so.” He could feel the faint heat rising into his cheeks, but Ferdinand elected to raise his tea cup to his lips in an attempt to mask the embarrassment present in his coloring.

An amused chuckle escaped her lips, only furthering Ferdinand’s muted sense of shame. As she lowered her spoon back into the bowl of soup she’d been working her way through, Dorothea allowed her gaze to shift in the general direction that Ferdinand had been staring. “Say, Ferdie. Do you really think you can win Edie over with those sad little longing gazes from across the room?”

Edelgard wasn’t the sort, after all. She was a bold woman, and while she hardly expected others around to her match her in terms of ambition, Dorothea saw it as highly unlikely that such passivity would catch her eye. A woman like Edelgard would need to be loved by someone who could own their sentiments without holding back. She knew, with little doubt, that even through her own boldness—there was someone else far more appealing to the Emperor than herself  _ or _ Ferdinand. 

Ferdinand, for his part, had nearly choked on the tea he’d been sipping—only narrowly did he hold it back in an attempt to regain the composure he’d lost from Dorothea’s bold claims. “I hope you are not implying that I have taken some manner of romantic interest in Edelgard. Truly, that would be preposterous—”

“Would it, though?” She cut him off at the pass, questioning with curious intent. “Long-standing rivals blossoming into love as they overcome their differences in time of war… It’s quite romantic, really. The sort of tale they write operas about.”

“Indeed, I would not disagree with that sentiment. It would most certainly make for an aweing performance on the stage. However,” His eyelids fluttered closed as he brought his teacup to his lips once more. “I do not take an interest in Edelgard romantically. She is a fine woman, and I am quite satisfied with our relationship at present. There is no need to speculate on this matter.”

Ferdinand was reasonable when it came to his political and battlefield duties; he took them as seriously as he always implied he would back in the days of attending the Officer’s Academy. He was meant to be the Prime Minister to Edelgard’s Emperor, and that held a great deal of value to him. It had taken the better part of five years—or perhaps more accurately  _ twenty three years _ —to accept where he stood in comparison to her. For so long, the Aegir upbringing had instilled in him that was superior to that of the Hresvelgs; that he was destined to surpass Edelgard in every way imaginable. Following the way she had abdicated his father’s power, he’d been left to reconsider everything he’d ever known. 

As the war had pressed on, he’d taken the time to consider what he was meant to do versus what he wanted. And what Ferdinand had truly wanted was not to engage in an eternal game of one-upmanship with Edelgard. He wanted to surpass her only so he could advise her well; so that he could aid her in correcting her course should she lose her way. He wanted to ensure that in order to assist her in seeing her vision for Fódlan through, and in order to do so, he would have to maintain a balance of mutual trust as well as an unbiased eye.

There was little doubt in his mind that romance would have only mired their ability to carry out duties properly. He was a man of devotion, one who would want to do anything to make his love happy—it would have been great a conflict of interest for him to ever pursue Edelgard because of that. He knew, without a doubt, that his feelings would likely compromise his ability to be unbiased—and so even as his petty feelings of one-sided rivalry subsided, he had never even considered feelings beyond camaraderie and friendship with the Adrestian Emperor. She was certainly beautiful, intelligent, and capable, but all the same, he felt it better to work alongside her than anything else. He believed in her cause, in her goals for the future of Fódlan, and that was enough for Ferdinand.

While Dorothea could plainly see there was no reason for her to disbelieve Ferdinand, she also felt that there was far more to the equation than meets the eye. His posture, composure and response and indicated that he was truthful in his sentiments with regards to Edelgard. Yet still—the look in Ferdinand’s eyes had spoken volumes. They had been dreamy, a distant lovestruck glaze that she’d seen so many times before. Men who had showered her with lavish gifts and praises during her time with the opera company; knights she’d had trysts with over the years. They were all the same, and that longing looks in his eyes had been no different. Ferdinand— _ dear, sweet Ferdie _ —he was the sort who wore his heart on his sleeve. While a bit foolish and naive at times, he was unquestioningly sincere in all that he did. He was a vibrant soul with the best of intentions, and all of that made it nearly impossible for her to be oblivious to his sentiments.

That was why she took his word for it when he declared that his sentiments weren’t for Edelgard—but if that were the case, then who exactly were they for? The silence that had fallen between them permeated the air, weighted and tense from Ferdinand’s stark refusals. Curious. It was so curious, and as Dorothea allowed the silence to settle, her gaze meandered. Casual and unassuming, it traced the path that ended where Ferdiand’s dreamy expression had been aimed. If it wasn’t Edelgard on his mind, then—

“It couldn’t be…” With the lunch hours coming to a close, very few had remained in the dining hall. Edelgard sat with only one other: Hubert von Vestra.

The fact they were together was hardly surprising; where Edelgard went, Hubert followed. He would jump if she asked, he would move mountains if it could cleave a path for her. His hands were tainted with blood and dark magic, and he believed in her cause unfailingly in a way that nobody in the Black Eagles Strike Force nor the whole of the Adrestian Army alike could even dare hope to match.

The question that was flooding Dorothea’s mind went unanswered—at least, not until she spoke it aloud.

“It’s Hubie, isn’t it,” Her words implied a question, but the tone indicated otherwise; a statement mired in subtle disbelief. Dorothea allowed her gaze to shift; her eyes sparkled in a manner befitting of brilliant emeralds as the realization began to sink in. “Hubie is the one who’s got your heart a-flutter.”

Her moment of disbelief quickly gave way to a giggle of endeared amusement, but Ferdinand’s reaction wasn’t nearly as graceful. He sputtered with near-immediacy, inhaling his sip of tea rather than swallowing it. For a long minute, he was left to try and not choke; his whole face flushed a deep shade of red—impossible for Dorothea to discern whether that was due to his choking or the embarrassment of being confronted so directly about it.

“Dorothea! Please, do not be mistaken—!” He finally responded once the coughing fit had settled; he slammed the nearly empty teacup on the table. It drew eyes from those remaining in the room, Hubert and Edelgard included. As that realization of his outburst hit him, Ferdinand drew in a deep, uneven breath as she continued to smile knowingly. 

“I think I’ve mentioned this before, but you’re a  _ terrible _ liar, Ferdie,” Despite the way she pointed out that flaw of his, so easily and without remorse, she still sounded warm, amused, and completely endeared by how earnest he was. “Now that it’s out in the open, there isn’t much point in hiding it from me. Besides, you aren’t the sort to keep things bottled up. It doesn’t suit you.”

“It is… not as if I am trying to hide anything from you,” Ferdinand spoke much quieter than his previous outburst; his flustered embarrassment was palpable, and a few eyes in the dining hall seemed to remain on him, Hubert’s piercing ones included. His tone lowered, quieter, as if that would make it even more difficult for anyone but Dorothea to hear what he had to say. “I will not deny that Hubert has indeed… been in my thoughts, of late.”

“Wow. Even though I asked, it’s… surprising, to hear you say so. I have to admit, I didn’t really expect it; I didn’t think he was your type at all. Especially not with how often you two seem to argue.”

Ferdinand responded in earnest, a deep sigh having escaped his lungs. He sat back in his seat slightly, lids fluttering closed as his shoulders slumped. 

“It has been as surprising for me as it must be for you. I have known him for many years now, and in all that time, I could not have predicted such a thing. His methods, often, they have made my skin crawl.His devotion to Edelgard  _ is _ admirable, but he was always so lackadaisical when it came to the lives of others. He even had the gall to—” He recalled instances of Hubert blatantly disregarding Edelgard’s orders and wishes, citing his own judgment of what was good for her as better. But rather than expose Hubert’s morally reprehensible approach, he merely shook his head. “In any case, things have been different, as of late.”

“Something changed, then.”

“Yes,” Ferdinand admitted quietly. “I am not sure what, however. I must say, it has been  _ quite _ vexing.”

He couldn’t be sure exactly what had changed—or rather,  _ when _ it changed. It could have been when Hubert complimented his merits, even if he’d followed it up by calling it an objective observation. Or perhaps it had been the time when he’d been ambushed on the battlefield by reinforcements and Hubert took a dangerous hit for him while casting Banshee. Maybe the time when Hubert caught a book in a stack Ferdinand was carrying and delicately placed it atop, or the way he closed his eyes and savored a cup of coffee after an early morning strategy meeting. 

Ferdinand truly wasn’t sure; he just knew that despite all the reasons he had to  _ dislike _ Hubert, somewhere along the way in recent months, being near Hubert gave him butterflies of excitement, not the weighted dread he once felt over the previous years.

“Even a guy like Hubie has his charms, underneath all the doom, gloom and death threats..”

It wasn’t surprising at all to Dorothea, after all. While Hubert undoubtedly had a reputation for his questionable methods, ruthless pursuit of Edelgard’s goals, and his general devotion to her, there was a kind enough person beneath it all. He wasn’t the most sociable or easy to get along with, but when it came to his allies, he did tend to have their best interests in mind. She’d caught wind of him doing plenty of small gestures for others to ease their minds; so long as it didn’t directly interfere or betray anything relating to Edelgard’s vision, he would often comply.

And Ferdinand, of course, was an honest and earnest soul. She was sure he could find the good in just about anyone—so why wouldn’t he have eventually taken notice of the good traits Hubert had to offer? In a sense, perhaps it was more surprising it had taken him as long as it did. Dorothea had known them both for the better part of five years; Ferdinand had known Hubert even longer. She supposed the war had changed them both, though.

Ferdinand had matured. He had grown into a man worthy of being called  _ noble. _ He was respectable and kind, empathetic, but capable and willing to take the necessary steps to aid in enacting great change. Hubert had also grown considerably. Gone were needless death threats and ominous words for his allies, in place of saving that for their enemies—a change that may have seemed small, but did a great deal to ensure the Strike Force worked as best they could in battle. If Dorothea could see that, surely Ferdinand had as well.

“So, Ferdie. How long do you plan to pine from the other side of the room?” Though it could have sounded teasing, she was serious. She didn’t feel it suited him; Ferdinand wasn’t typically the sort to hold back his feelings.

Ferdinand, however, wasn’t so quick to answer. His gaze shifted back to where Hubert and Edelgard were seated; their eyes were no longer watching curiously in his direction. Instead, he could see the way Hubert’s head dipped. He could see a rosy tint flushing his cheeks, and the way Edelgard seemed to smile amusedly at whatever it was they were discussing.

“I… am not sure,” There was an air of hesitance in his tone. Though he wasn’t one to lose heart easily, this was a topic in particular that he wasn’t sure how to handle. “This topic is a delicate one, after all.”

“I don’t think that’s every stopped you before,” She pointed out in response. 

“Perhaps not. But you know as well as I do that he has dedicated his very existence to Edelgard.” Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if there was a place for him within that equation. He was certain Hubert didn’t enjoy his company—even if they were far more amiable in recent months, they had very little in common beyond their shared desire to see Edelgard’s goals through to the end. 

“Besides, we are still at war. I cannot imagine that even if I were to…”  _ attempt to court him, _ he thought, but he shook off the words, finding himself too embarrassed to use those words to describe  _ Hubert.  _

“You won’t know unless you try, right?” She knew what he wanted to say. Dorothea was no stranger to wartime flirtations, after all. She still sought that stability, that desire to have someone to settle down with when all was said and done; time didn’t wait for the war to end. Not for her, and certainly not for anyone else in their army.

Ferdinand’s response to her question was a little less than typical. He crossed his arms over his chest, let his eyes flutter shut once more. His tone took that of a gravelly, darker sort that wasn’t at all suited for the cadence of his voice. “I don’t wish to hear you  _ blathering on _ like some kind of idiot. Save your sentiments for someone who enjoys hearing the river of filth that pours from your mouth.”

It was a poor imitation of Hubert at best, but precisely the one he imagined he would be met with should he have chosen to voice his feelings. Dorothea had to do all she could to stifle a laugh; poor as the imitation was—coming from  _ Ferdinand’s  _ mouth, it sounded positively silly in comparison to how Hubert carried himself—she was able to see the point he was trying to make. She did understand why there may have been some trepidation.

“First of all: Never do that again,” She started. Ferdinand’s response was to relax his shoulders and return to drinking his tea; his spirits seemed a bit lifted by her call-out of what they both knew was a terrible impersonation. “Second: Do you really think Hubie would say that  _ now? _ ”

Dorothea couldn’t say for sure just how things were between them behind closed doors; all she could be certain of were her own experiences with Hubert, and the anecdotal things she had heard from the likes of Bernadetta over their own shared meals. 

“He.. admittedly has been kinder, of late,” Precisely why his own feelings had started to change, though he didn’t speak those words aloud. “Just a few weeks ago, in this very dining hall—he stated that my optimism was my best quality. That it surpassed Edelgard's! And unprompted, at that! Needless to say, it took me quite by surprise, though he did make it a point to assure this was an objective assessment.”

_ Mixed signals. _

“Ah, so I see…” For Dorothea, it was starting to come together. Their relationship had certainly been biting, but for Hubert to offer a compliment of that caliber, and completely unprompted… she had her doubts it was purely objective. It was more likely, in her opinion, that they were completely biased and not at all objective, but Hubert’s prickly nature prevented him from admitting so outright. And Ferdinand…

He may have been sharp and keen when it came to politics and matters of the heart for _other_ _people_, there was little getting around the fact that his own naivete at times meant he probably took Hubert’s words at face value. He could doubt when needed—but wasn’t that only telling of the trust Ferdinand had for him?

“Maybe you just need to turn the tides for him. Turn his… objective assessment into a very biased one.” Her gaze followed Hubert’s movements as he pushed his chair out and led Edelgard out of the dining hall; when they were no longer in sight, Dorothea shifted to look at Ferdinand, whose eyes were still fixed on the doorway. 

It took a long, lingering moment before he snapped back to their conversation, as if it took him that entire time to process what she was suggesting for him. “Do you really think  _ Hubert _ can be swayed? He is as stubborn as a mule! Perhaps more stubborn than even  _ ten _ mules!”

“Mm. I think if there’s anyone who could get a stubborn old mule to move, it’s _you,_ Ferdie.” Her words were soft, honest. Even if there was no way for her to be sure without talking to Hubert herself, she wasn’t blind to the situation. All it took was thinking back on things—the countless times Hubert had assisted him on the battlefield with nearly the same fervor as he would have for Edelgard, the ways in which he took Ferdinand’s perspective into consideration when formulating plans and strategies. The signs were all there, even if masked beneath layers upon layers of acting in accordance with duty. She hadn't realized it until it was brought to her attention; she hadn't needed to. But know that Dorothea was aware, there was little getting around the fact that there was something different between them than either had been open to admitting up until that point.

“Just take it slow. Invite him to tea to discuss strategy, or maybe... “ Dorothea supposed that may be too subtle. “A gift. Something he’d like.”

“Something.. He would like.” Ferdinand repeated back thoughtfully.

“I suppose that might be difficult. What  _ does _ Hubie like besides Edie…?” She hummed out the words with a thoughtful laugh. Hubert really was a difficult one to read at times, wasn’t he?

The silence fell between them again; Ferdinand was truly taking the time to consider her words. Or, he had been, for just a moment. From silence to an outburst in what felt like mere seconds had Ferdinand slamming his hands against the table and pushing is seat out to stand up.

“I know  _ exactly _ what I should do!” From pensive and flustered to brimming with a bright aura of energy that only he could produce, Dorothea only tilted her head questioningly—she wasn’t given a chance to speak before he began to move. “Thank you for the idea, Dorothea! You have been a great help. I have to run this errand, but I will be back in time for this afternoon’s meeting!”

“Fer…” the rest of his name died on her tongue before she could ask where he was going. It was certainly charming to see him and his fiery mane bustling about with the energy she expected… but she supposed all the same, finding out just what he had in mind would have to wait.

“Good luck, Ferdie. I don’t imagine it’ll be an easy courtship…”

**Author's Note:**

> Up next: What Hubert and Edelgard were talking about over the very same lunch.


End file.
